Into the deep
by mingathur
Summary: But the pendant he kept always, always close to his heart, but never in her line of sight...' AXC, R &R pls.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Into the deep

Lightning flashed across the sky, effectively blinding him for a moment.

_I don't want to fight you!_

Athrun could only scream inwardly. Firstly because he did not want to frighten the girl beside him, and secondly because the person he wanted so badly to scream at was not listening.

"STOP IT!!" He yelled, evading an attack.

"Listen, Shinn! What Rey and the Chairman said may sound correct, but…" He was rudely interrupted again as Rey-or rather, Legend-shot at him. Athrun cursed vehemently, and he could hear Meyrin gasp beside him, but he refused to be silenced. He knew he will probably not have a chance to redeem the boy ever again. He might die today, but if he did-even if he does- he wants to make sure the boy never walks down the same wrong path he did.

_To willingly become a mindless puppet; a murderer. _

"But…!" He continued relentlessly, "But their words will eventually lead everyone in this world to their deaths! And…"

"DON'T listen to him!" Rey snapped, his seething face appeared on the screen. A face twisted by anger and hatred, so unlike his usual self.

Apparently Shinn really was not listening, and Athrun's heart gave a wrench. For without hesitation, Destiny took out the Excalibar and launched itself upon the Gouf, Meyrin screamed as Athrun blocked the blow just in time, and the whole suit was sent flying backwards.

_No…I don't want to fight you!_

Athrun understood what was at stake, yet he could not bring himself to fight back either. His hands were gripping the controls so hard that his knuckles were white. He was angry at himself for letting Shinn go down this path, he should have realized earlier that the Chairman was manipulating Shinn all along. Weaving careful lies and spinning webs of deceit to eternally trap him in the vicious cycle of violence; molding and shaping his thoughts and feelings into the perfect killer, the perfect soldier.

_Athrun should have been able to save Shinn…_

"SHINN!" The protest tore out from his throat. "At least…At least let Meyrin get off! She's innocent!"

_It's okay if you destroy me…I deserve it. I deserve it for not being able to save you…but please… wake up…_

"She's as guilty as you are!" Rey snarled, then he turned to Shinn, "They betrayed the Chairman, they betrayed Zaft! They betrayed us! Are you going to let them live?!"

Athrun only shook his head, he would betray Dulliandal, he would betrayed Zaft, but…he knew he'll never betray Shinn; he'll never lift a finger against him.

_Shinn is a friend. _

And as if Shinn read his thoughts, he stopped. And Athrun realized Shinn was hesitating, and for a moment, he dared to hope. He dared himself to believe that Shinn had indeed heard his voice, he had indeed understood.

Meyrin held her breath as lightning flashed angrily across the sky.

"It's…" Shinn finally spoke, and Athrun could feel his heart skip a beat as he heard the rest of Shinn words. Dread filled him, consumed him.

"It's all your fault. It's all your fault for betraying us!!" With that he whipped out Excalibar. The Gouf defended itself.

Athrun felt completely detached from his surroundings, and the battle going on felt impersonal, even though his very life was at stake. It was almost surreal to watch as Destiny destroyed his shield, then chopped off an arm. He defended himself out of instinct and reflex, but there was not will in his actions, no thoughts in his movements. The boy was completely lost to him.

Destiny came nearer, and as it prepared to deal the finishing blow, Athrun would have sat there, stunned, not daring to breathe; if he had not remembered Meyrin was still there, screaming.

He managed to react only at the very last moment. He unclipped the safety belt from around his waist and unceremoniously yanked Meyrin towards him. And as the Excalibar stabbed through the wall of the cockpit he had enveloped her in a bear hug, she was still screaming, there was thunder in the sky. But none of that was as loud as the blaring pain that shot through his body. The flesh on his right arm and his spine had been sliced open by the cursed sword, which burnt right through his uniform. He could feel as well as smell the damaged and charred muscles; it smelt like barbeque, and he realized he would be cooked alive in the matter of minutes.

But everything is going well. Meyrin is alive and unharmed.

They were falling, and if his perception of heaven and earth still held, they will be falling into the ocean in a few seconds. In a hazy state of pain and panic, he managed to tell himself to redouble his grip around Meyrin, preparing to cushion the impact upon hitting the water surface.

Nothing could prepare him for this. As the suit hit the water surface, it was like hitting rock. And impact reverberated through the damaged cockpit, and the experience was akin to being a metal ball in a spray can. He was thrown in three different directions at once and hit his head twice. And on the final time, he felt something went snap in his chest, maybe a rib or two. A sharp cry escaped his lips, and for a moment he could not breathe.

He had no time to worry about that, the salt water started gushing into the cockpit. And in seconds it filled up high enough to lick his wounds, he almost fainted. Pain was everywhere; it was intense and excruciating.

He released his grip on Meyrin, wanting her to go on alone. He was probably not going to make it, but she still can.

Then he realized she was out cold.

Athrun would have cursed if he could still breathe. And he did, he held her to himself with his good left arm, and took a deep breath. Then submerged himself in the water, kicked his way out from the cockpit and swam free of the suit.

There was a light in front of him, and Athrun wondered if he was already dead without realizing it. He could no longer trust his senses, they were fading too fast. There was nothing but water around him, and he knew he could not reach the light even if he wanted to. His injured right arm was unresponsive, his left was wrapped around Meyrin, he could only swim with his legs and they were not fast enough for the air supply in his lungs to be able to last. Already his head was starting to spin from oxygen deprivation and blood loss.

_Meyrin…I couldn't…save…_

Then a force collided with his body from behind and propelled them forward towards the lights like rag dolls, it knocked the wind out from his lungs. A bellow of orange told him that the suit had exploded. Pieces of shrapnel embedded itself into his body like daggers, though he no longer knew where. But one thing good resulted from the explosion, the light was closer now.

Out of sheer willpower, he swam forward, struggling just to make progress with his battered body. Crimson threads floated eerily off the wound on his forehead, clouding his limited vision. And he started wondering if there were sharks in that region. He dragged the unconscious Meyrin with him, he had to be fast, there was a limit to how much water she can draw into her lungs before irreversible damage occurs; then she will never wake up.

When he was close enough, he realized it was a cave entrance. He crossed his fingers, and hoped that it was one of those with air, even just a little pocket. If not, they die. The cave was narrow and meandering upwards, and the walls were lined with something fluorescent. He was careful not to go nearer, the fluorescent revealed snakes, and he doubt he could handle even one now.

Finally, in front of him, he caught a glimpse of the water surface, a circular pool that led to light.

He drew a deep breath as he broke through the surface, his chest hurt. Quickly he dragged Meyrin onto the shore, then climbed up himself. The ground consisted of coarse, damp sand.

He pulled Meyrin up beside him, she was unresponsive as he called her name. And he realized in horror that she was not breathing anymore…

Quickly he flipped her onto her back, and with both hands pressed down repeatedly on her stomach. There was still no response after the first few times, he gritted his teeth, refusing to give up, he could not let Meyrin die.

She coughed, once, twice, then brought up more water.

When she was breathing again, Athrun had time to survey the damage, she was cut and bruised, but nothing deep, nothing life threatening. He on the other hand, was the direct opposite.

Blood drained from his shoulder, trickling down his right arm, and pooled around his wrist. It mixed with the salt water, and seeped into the sand, turning it an ugly shade of reddish-brown. It flowed from the wound on his forehead, and trickled into his eye. Strangely, strength suddenly departed from his body as relief washed over him. Finally, he collapsed.

He lay on his side, helpless, struggling to breathe. His chest heaved with each breath he drew, it felt constricted, suffocated. His breaths are coming in short, sharp rasps. And each caused the pain in his lungs to bite in deeper, he could only imagine what damage had been done to his lungs. He could no longer feel pain, only an unearthly chill that wrapped around his person, and he shivered. He could smell the ferrous liquid mixed with salt and other minerals. Nausea overcame him, and his vision blurred. In a distant, there was a rumbling of thunder.

He coughed, tasting blood in his mouth, the stabbing pain his chest started again and he let out a soft moan. He curled in on himself, attemping to stem the bleeding that had somehow sprouted from the lower part of his chest. His hand gingerly explored the terain, though it hurt to touch himself, and he realized that a broken rib had punch through flesh and protruded from his chest like a mutant worm. He was beginning to bleed profusely. The pain worsened to the point that made him want to scream, but he was denied even of that power. When he screamed, no sound came out.

Athrun began to wonder how long it will take him to die.

_Kira._

Tears pooled in his eyes as he thought of his deceased friend, and he squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling for the tears to flow out; unwilling to show weakness in his final moments. His friend had been murdered in cold blood-by the one that Athrun had wanted to save.

Both of them are out of his reach now, in one way or another.

_I'm sorry, Kira._

He realized it was getting harder and harder to breathe, but he forced himself to remain calm, even when he was gasping for air. His painful attempts to draw breath reverberated eerily around the empty cavern, and the terrible sounds were beginning to fade, just as he was. It was alright, at least he will probably get to see Kira soon. And join the gang who had passed on before him.

He allowed himself to sleep.

Then he heard the sound of a pebble hitting the sand.

Startled, for it might have been pursuers, he forced himself to open his eyes. Through his blurry vision, he realised that there was no one, no armed diver from within the pool coming to finish the job of killing them. Satisfied that there was no threat, he lay back down.

His gaze drifted, and landed myopically on the reddish-purple pendant that had slipped out of his collar and landed on a puddle of blood.

He bit his lip, tears overflowed.

Slowly, painstakingly, his willed his hand to crawl towards the pendant. It seemed almost impossible, for his hand no longer felt like his own, he could not move it. Athrun started gauging the distance in centimeters, trying to force himself to stay awake, trying to coax his arm to move.

_Six, five, four…three, come on…two, one and a half. One more…_

When his hand finally enclosed itself around the stone, he felt an odd and silly sense of achievement overcome him. And he wanted to congratulate himself.

_Cagalli._

He had kept it hidden for a long time, especially from Cagalli. Because when Athrun found out about Yuna-her pseudo fiancé- he was no longer sure whether Cagalli still wanted him to have it. So he kept it always, concealed by collars or shirts; always near, always close to his heart, but never in Cagalli's line of sight.

Somehow he was afraid, that when Cagalli saw him wearing it, she will ask for it to be returned. Logically speaking, that should not bother him, for it was merely a piece of pretty rock. But for some reason, Athrun did not feel as if it was just a piece of rock, it felt far more important than that. Athrun knew he would be devastated if that day ever comes, the thought was practically inconceivable, and he dreaded the day when it might materialize.

He thought it will be nice if he could see her one more time, and confess to her his feelings, but he knew that it was a luxury to even be able to talk, much less get up and find her, it was an impossible task for him in this state.

So Athrun drew the pendant close to him once again, his tears fell silently onto the surface of the stone, washing the blood off the smooth surface. And he made a prayer to dream of her one last time.

His closed his eyes, and plunge headlong into darkness.

Oooooooooooooooooooo

I've always wanted to write about this scene where Athrun was being hunted down by Shinn and Rey. In 'The Edge', there were a lot of insights as to Athrun's feelings in facing death, and made good inspirational material for this story. For example, in the comic, he silently told Shinn as he sank into the ocean.

"_When I heard your voice, you sounded like you were crying, and I feel even worst than you. You shouldn't be made to fight. Not like this. I…don't want to die yet…because I haven't…you……" _

Great scene, and I hope that this chap did it justice. Review please XD, I think I'll write one or two more chapters as continuation. For the parts after that.

Ming


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Let go

"Team two, Francis Cornelius reporting. Sir Kisaki, I think we found the guy you were looking for. Blue hair, in a red uniform, around the age of a high school student. Hmmm, hey…he kinda looks like Alex…Anyway, he's accompanied by a girl a little younger, maybe middle school kid, in green uniform."

"Good work. Commence retrieval."

"Yes sir, but only one problem, the medic says we can't move him like this, he's a bag of broken bones. He was hardly breathing when we found him anyway, the medic said something about a broken rib piercing through some membrane. He's coughing up blood."

"How bad is he?"

"According to the medic, he is probably not going to make it if he isn't treated soon. He smells like barbeque well-done. Basically, whoever sent to kill him has done a pretty thorough job…"

"You sound like you don't want to save him."

"Honestly. I don't. Why Zaft wants to kill their own soldiers is none of my dog-gone business. I'd rather go home and plot on assassinating the rest of the Serians."

"Cut the crap. Send me your location and I'll send a team to pick you guys up. Save him. This is an order."

"While you're at it, why not order the medic to save the boy and order the boy to rise up and walk?"

"Unlike you. The medic probably knows to do that already."

"Fine fine, can't you just ask nicely? I can still thwart your plans by letting the reef snakes take a bite out of him, you know…Hey, wait…"

"What now?"

"He's holding something…I can't seem to get it out of his hand…it's…MY goodness. In heaven's name, it's the freakin' pendant that our lady gave to Alex years ago!!"

"Haumea's pendant…? It's still with him?"

"Apparently. It's really ALEX!! HURRY UP AND SEND THAT BLOODY RECON TEAM!!"

Oooooo

Athrun knew he was lying on the ground, and strangely, he had absolutely no idea where he was. He was in the midst of an impenetrable, whitish fog which appeared so dense that he could not quite breathe, and cannot really see for more than a few feet into the foggy gloom. There was no weeping sky above him, no greenery beneath him, yet he could tell that he was lying on something quite soft yet rather cold. He thought that if clouds had texture, this is probably what it will feel like. Maybe the ground was not cold, but he certainly was.

It felt queer, because his sensory perception was somewhat confusing and jumbled up; like a mixed-up jigsaw puzzle; like a large pot of coffee and milk. In this world, nothing seemed complete, nothing seemed right, yet he could not quite put a finger to what was wrong. He could feel, but not really see. He could hear disoriented sounds that resembled pulsating, mecha cicadas, they sounded tired. Even the taste of the air did not seem right, the breeze that blew into his face seemed somewhat too clean; somewhat artificial. Resultantly he was confused by the cocktail of signals his brain was receiving, and it left him rather nauseous and disoriented.

It made him feel sad.

Someone was coming.

Anxious, his hand tightened around the pendant.

_Crap._

The invader stared at him, and he stared back defiantly. He realized he had said the word out loud; which was so uncharacteristic of him.

The guy looked amused.

_You didn't want to see me._

Kisaki was smiling, and Athrun cringed guiltily.

Kisaki hardly smiles, and when he does it tends to look a little creepy; though Athrun will never tell him that to his face. Also, Athrun wondered where he was, his voice appears to be coming from way above though he was sure the other man was only less than half meter away. It was a curious sensation.

He had been hoping to see Cagalli. But it appears that he was not going to get lucky.

_I didn't…_

_Well, you'll just have to make do._

Athrun shook his head wearily, allowing his disappointment to show plainly on his face. There was no reason to be nice to an in-dream Kisaki. What's the point?

He looked up to his ex-superior, and for some strange reason, opened his mouth to say…

…_Sorry._

_For what?_

_Giving you guys so much trouble._

Athrun almost blurted out, 'Killing Kira.' And the expression on his face must have revealed the anguish in his heart, for Kasaki remained silent, then gingerly laid a hand on his left shoulder.

_It's not your fault… _

After a moment, Athrun nodded slightly, he himself had no idea what that gesture meant.

_Kira……Where…?_

_You're going to see him soon._

That confirmed it.

Athrun is dead.

But oddly enough, he felt no sadness, only a small expectancy of meeting Kira. And he was surprised at himself, at how he embraced the fact so readily. Perhaps it was the pain, maybe it was despair, he did not know why he was so relieved. But the fact remains that he had indeed. Died.

Just as Kira had done a few weeks ago.

Athrun sighed in a small and sad way.

He will be ready for whatever Kira wants to do to get even. But there wasn't such a thing as a second death if Kira decides to kill him, is there?

It was as if Kisaki had read his thoughts. For he gripped his shoulder gently to get his attention.

…_He doesn't blame you._

Athrun looked steadily at Kisaki, meeting his eyes.

_He never does._

Athrun replied, his voice barely above a whisper and quivering ever so slightly.

_Sometimes I think he should._

The fog swirled around him, clouding his dark thoughts.

Athrun had indirectly caused his death, whether Kira would admit it or not. His choices had led to one tragedy after another; yet he never turned back, never realized that he was being cornered, that the Chairman had been intending to murder his friends one by one. He had in fact, aided in the destruction of his friends.

First Lacus, then Kira.

…and Cagalli.

Cagalli.

_Is she alright!? _

_The lady?_

Athrun nodded, heart in mouth. The dead weight in his chest intensified, and he felt so afraid.

_Yes. So far… _

Kisaki was hesitant about something, and he stopped in midsentence. It made Athrun more worried. Yet he could not bring himself to ask, because he knew that even if he found out; he cannot do anything about it. He's…in a different world now, and he's helpless; the notion pained him in a way he never knew. The anguish that filled his heart now is just indescribable. And in the literal sense, he felt his heart break.

It scared him to know that he will never see Cagalli again, and he can never be there for her; just to stand beside her and protect her and hold her.

He had lost her the moment he boarded the shuttle and headed for PLANTs.

He recalled the moment where they met on the cliffs, and she was still wearing the ring despite everything; that ruby ring that Athrun had given to her.

It made him sincerely happy.

He clenched his fist.

It was red like blood.

Then he realized there was something held within. And he remembered suddenly, he held Haumea's pendant tight in his palm.

His eyes felt hot.

'_You…seem like quite an unlucky guy, maybe this will protect you.'_

_Kisaki…_

Athrun gazed at the gift, for the last time.

_Can you…return this to her?_

With difficulty, he inched open his hand. For some reason, it felt painful.

_Why?_

Athrun did not reply, he could not. Tears had pooled in his eyes, and he was afraid that a sob will escape his lips the moment he tried.

_You still love her, don't you?_

Athrun gasped softly, Kisaki had openly identified the source of his pain, and the moment he said it, it magnified; and became unbearable. He could not bring himself to admit it. He let out a shaky breath, struggling to express himself.

_I…_

_You still care. You still love Lady Cagalli._

It was not a question, it was a statement. Kisaki was probing him, and helping him along.

…_Always._

Athrun's voice escaped from his lips as a breath, a sound barely above a whisper.

…_Then why?_

…_I……_

Athrun swallowed the lump in his throat, attempting to shed the thickness in his voice.

_I wanted to protect her…_

He shook his head slowly.

_But I can't._

He breathed out, his voice was quivering, it was so unlike himself. He sounded so broken, so shattered. His chest for some reason, felt tight and constricted.

_So…return this to her. Please._

Kisaki hesitated. After a few heart stopping moments, Athrun felt the weight of the stone being lifted off his palm, and somehow he knew that Kisaki had conceded to his ridiculous request. He felt immensely grateful for it, for some reason, it was an incredible relief, a weight off his chest.

_Do you want me to say anything to her?_

Athrun was surprised at the offer.

It pained him to the deepest parts.

What can he say to her that still matters? What could he offer if he told her that he loved her, and was thinking of her all the while, even till the very end. What good will it do her if she understood even a tiny fraction of what he was feeling and experiencing? How can he still protect her when she does not need him anymore?

The answer stared at him plainly in the face.

It will be so simple, so easy. Yet so cruel.

_Nothing._

She should be free to love. He has lost his freedom, but he will give her wings to fly.

_Don't tell her._

Then after a while, she will forget that he ever existed. And she will move on in life, she will rule Orb well, she will marry a good man and be happy. Her world will be beautiful and complete without him.

Cagalli will be better off without him.

_Really?_

Athrun bit his lip, and nodded after a few moments. The action was short and simple, but it took almost all of his will power to force himself to do it. Because he knew there was no point in fighting. There was no point in screaming and shouting when nothing mattered anymore.

In the end, he just had to let go quietly.

So he did.

Oooooo

Kisaki looked at the pendant.

Athrun was unconscious again, and was breathing weakly into the oxygen mask cupped over his nose and mouth. His breaths were whispery faint and strained that they barely registered as vapor on the inner surface of the mask; it was a bad sign.

He was brought aboard 26 hours ago, sedated and his wounds treated. And all the while, he maintained a death grip on that pendant; even when the paramedics and doctors tried their very best to pry it out of his grasp. In the end, they lost; they had to cut the cord from around his neck to reach the wounds on his chest.

After surgery, Athrun remained in critical condition; he was injured too badly and had lost too much blood. His body needed time to recover, but beyond that, it needed healing that had to come from within. Sometimes it does, sometimes it does not. Sometimes it did not matter if they were Coordinators or not.

Sometimes people die.

And all Kisaki could do was to hope that he lasts long enough to be returned alive to the Archangel; where a pair of anxious twins were waiting.

Though of course, this idiot does not know about it. Come to think of it, he probably does not realize that his best friend was still alive and waiting for him. And of course, does not know that the Lady too, was crying when Kisaki told her the news.

And the semi-conscious, heavily-sedated idiot just gave the pendant to him.

Kisaki wondered what he should do, he wondered whether Athrun was actually lucid and coherent enough to understand all that he had said, especially when he did not even open his eyes. Kisaki was especially mindful about Cagalli's feelings.

Initially, Kisaki had assumed that the boy had been cheating on Cagalli all along when he suddenly left to rejoin Zaft.

Kisaki had sworn to kill him -for real- once the opportunity arises. Firstly it is because he had wounded Cagalli deeply with his sudden departure and subsequent betrayal. Kisaki had carried a deep resentment towards Athrun ever since and it escalated especially when Cagalli was forced to carry out the ceremony with Yuna. Kisaki understood her need and reasoning, but was somehow angry at Athrun for not being there for her; if he was there, he could have saved her, or at least ease her suffering. She tried to hide her pain, but Kisaki had never seen her so devastated.

He had never seen her cry like that.

And he renewed his resolve to make him pay.

Secondly, he was an obvious threat to national security. Skilled and deadly as he is, he was useful as both an assassin and aide, and when he left, he took Orb's military secrets with him. Kisaki had wanted to trust him, but seeing his absolute obedience towards the Chairman of PLANTs, he had his reservations.

He wanted to believe that Athun will never betray them, not completely.

But it appears that it was real after all; if his love for her extends even to these moments. The Athrun lying helpless before him was still the same Athrun who had devoted himself to Cagalli and sworn to serve her and her only for as long as he lives.

Seeing the young couple's love for each other brought back memories of romances he had had, and had lost. They had understood what Kisaki had not when the woman he loved did something he could not forgive.

They understood that it was precious beyond measure to find someone to love and cherish more than life itself.

Sadly, many people love for what the other party does, and not what he or she is. And in the end, there will be nothing left but selfishness and regret. But this young couple did it; they have chosen to love each other at the expense of themselves. They have found something so true and pure that it was worth dying for. They have found each other.

With the other hand not holding the pendant, he lifted a hand.

He ruffled through Athrun's slightly damp blue hair, careful to avoid agitating the wounds on his head. Kisaki was smiling slightly.

It was nostalgic, for it felt like two years ago again.

_When Athrun was still shorter than him._

"Don't give up…" He said, half to himself, because he had no way of telling whether Athrun could still hear his voice. And in all probability, he had better luck talking to a tree trunk.

"She…still loves you."

A moment of silence, all except the heart monitor which was beeping insistently, hopefully.

He wondered if it were just his imagination. For thin trails of moisture made their way down the sides of Athrun's face.

Ooooooooooooooo

This is chapter 2, I hope u guys like it. Also, I uploaded a 7-step illustration of Athrun in the first chapter. If interested, please go to .com and search for my user name 'Mingathur', the title of the deviation is 'Fading Lights'.

Till chapter next! jyaa ne!

Ming


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Meeting

_Consciousness._

It came to him, though as a blessing or as a curse, he did not know.

_The answer came to him in an instant._

_Fire burnt around him. _

At the moment he only knew of a heat; a flame that seemingly rose from the depths of his chest, consuming him from without; burning forth from within the hearts of hearts.

The heat caused his breaths to scald past the walls of his windpipe with each stolen breath, and escape as warm air from his lips; like a poison leisurely but surely seeping deeper and deeper into his lungs.

It was a terrible feeling, yet it did not feel foreign. Suffering was quite like an old friend to him… though he did not quite remember who he was.

He frowned as the thought surfaced, it had the consistency of smoke, and it slipped through the crevices between his fingers as would vapour. And he realized he was not capable of coherent thought.

_Pain befalls all men, she is an impartial judge who reigns high above all._

The fire licked at his weakening resolve to not to succumb to oblivion. He did not understand why he had to endure this sort of torture; he did not know why he had to fight just to draw air. Somehow, he had mustered enough awareness to know that his person was not uninjured or whole, but he simply could not remember why.

_Then there was pain._

It came, more persistent than the fires; more horrible than words can describe. It was everywhere the fire had seared, and took one more faces than a chameleon. It raged and pulsed like a vein of molten lava, the sensation was excruciating as it tore through his body in waves, ravaging what was left of his brokenness. He would have screamed if he could.

He desired to move- to escape from the horror of the flame and pain, but he realized he could not, no matter how he willed his body, his injured and sedated muscles would not budge. It should not come as a surprise; he could barely breathe in the first place. A terrible realization dawned on him, that he had become helpless and powerless in the face of danger once again. He had been reduced to a creature that was both vulnerable and weak, and he hated it. There was no use fighting, he could not win. He hated himself.

_With all his heart, he wished for death to come..._

Moisture of some sort dripped onto his face, and for an instant; the fire was quenched; defeated. It was a great measure of relief as the moisture ran down his skin, bringing a trail of cooling- healing - in its wake.

_Like the clouds that melt, and with its train of drops gently soften the earth. Like the eyes that weep, and tears, pure and cooling, ran as spring water would over his hardened heart; causing his once-concrete resolve to waver- his resolve to die…_

Hands touched his face, it was small and fluttery soft; like a bird, a feather. Hands that was cooler than the fire; that wiped the water from his face. Fingers gently trace the contours of his face; and were curiously playing a game of hide-and-seek. They touched him one time, two, then disappeared. He was alarmed; he yearned for the cooling touch to be bestowed to him once again. He yearned to be healed.

Those hands came again, and this time landed on his collar bone, and appeared to be fiddling and fumbling with something. After a few moments he realized the owner of those hands was removing his shirt.

For a moment, he panicked, he was not used to anyone undressing him. He attempted to move again, but what met his clumsy attempt to protest was a bout of sharp pain that flared from somewhere on his chest. He almost cried out, but could not find his voice.

The person paused, and her hand came to rest on his uninjured shoulder, and held him gingerly as if afraid she had been the one who hurt him. Her hands were miraculously reassuring, and for some reason; _familiar_. Those hands did not belong to an enemy, and they promised to be gentle. Athrun could not object even if he wanted to, so he drew a few more shaky breaths, and willed himself to relax.

The owner of those hands seemed to sense his resignment, for they resumed their action, this time somewhat more cautiously. The buttons came undone, one after another as it passed. All the way down they went, pausing to be extra gentle over his broken ribs. Cool air met his exposed skin, and it was cold in contrast, he shivered slightly.

Moisture touched his face again, this time in the form of a wet fabric. It wiped the perspiration off his face, and proceeded down his neck and chest. Quenching the heat, putting out the flames even just for a moment. Athrun felt better, and was utterly grateful to the pairs of hands who offered him salvation and redemption; even if it was transient and short-lived.

He realized he was able to feel parts of himself again, he was whole; but not whole. The sensations that met his arm and chest did not feel right. He was wrapped up in bandages, and he could feel the layers compressing the dressings, pressing them against his wounds. He could feel the dampness and warmth as it slide over his skin with each raspy breath. He could hear his own breaths, but he realized he could also hear a voice...

_Someone was calling his name._

A cool, smooth and spherical trinket landed on his collar bone. And he could feel hands fiddling with clasps beside his neck. Next, the person buttoned up his shirt, and took both his hands and laid them over the stone.

She held on there, four hands and a little pebble hidden within. She muttered something like a prayer, and this time Athrun caught words. But more important than the words that were spoken was her voice, _that voice!!_

_This was the first voice that Athrun had been hoping to hear if he actually survived. Even if he did not, he wished to at least be given the chance to say goodbye…_

Her forehead touched his; he knew it was her forehead as the tip of her nose touched him as well. She made a choked sound now, and it was sad and desperate; each of her teardrops sprinkled onto his face, light and lonely. She sobbed quietly for a few more moments in the same position, head-to-head and heart-to-heart. As if by some means, hoping Athrun could understand the unspoken that were in her heart...

_Cagalli..._

Finally, when she spoke, Athrun could _hear_.

"Athrun…please wake up. Please…"

_Cagalli._

His heart wrenched painfully, and all he wanted to open his eyes and touch her and embrace her and tell her everything is alright. He wanted to wipe away her tears and her hurts and then hold her some more. But he could not move. No matter how he willed his battered body to respond, nothing happened, he was like the captain of a ship with a broken steering wheel. He could not respond to her sorrow, he could do nothing to take it away.

_Move, damn it! _

But even as her face pulled away, even as he began to panic; there was nothing he could do to draw her back to him. Her sobs had become audible now, and was muffled, probably by her own hand. And at the moment, Athrun hated himself even more, despair claimed him as her hands left his own, it felt as if a chunk of flesh was torn off his heart. _He had come so far, only to lose her again. _

_Cagalli!_

Tears started rolling down the sides of his face, he had not realized, but he had started crying with her. He did not want to give up, and summoning the same willpower that had enabled him to grip onto the pendant when he was desperately wounded, he willed his hand to move, to reach out and tried to touch her one last time.

At last, he managed to crack open his eyes. White light flooded into his vision, and he grimaced, but was unwilling to take his eyes off the retreating back of the girl he love.

Cagalli was white, and beautiful as an angel, more beautiful than he ever remembered her to be. She was the miracle that he had hoped to see. Sobs wrecked her shoulders, and beside her was another familiar figure who placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, someone whom Athrun could not recognize at the moment. And at the periphery of his vision, was his own hand; pale and weak. Lifted barely centimeters off the sheets, forlorn and forsaken, crying out for her to return; to take his hands in hers once again…

_Cagalli...!_

In the end, he only managed to mouth her name, but no voice came forth from his parched throat...

The hand fell involuntarily as his strength failed, and the ground seemed to disappear beneath him; Athrun found himself plunging headlong into darkness. But this time, he was no longer afraid, he had seen, felt and heard Cagalli once more…

The pendant that now rested over his heart felt warm.

_And…That's enough…it doesn't matter if he does not wake up ever again… _

_I'm so glad I met you…Cagalli._

_oooooo_

This is chapter 3. Hope you like it!

R & R please! And also, I uploaded a new illustration of Athrun and Cagalli on .com, the user name is 'Mingathur' and the title of the illustration is 'Desire'. Feel free to comment as well!

Yours

Ming


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Homecoming

Athrun Zala carelessly wiped the moisture from hair and threw the towel onto the chair, joining his new uniform and the packed suitcase there. After that, he slumped on the edge of the bed and fumed…

It was pathetic, to be venting his frustrations on a mere towel. But he had no choice at the moment. It was the night before they had to leave Orb with the fleet that will go to space confront Zaft…

_It was also his last chance..._

He gave a long sigh at this moment, and all it did was to echo faintly around the room, then died away in less than a heartbeat; as if it did not belong there in the first place. Maybe it was just as well, maybe…he did not belong there.

_Maybe he had no right to be by her side… _

Many things had happened since he woke up and found Kira seated by his bedside, his friend's smile tight and wet; though thankfully very much well and alive. But he had no such luck with Cagalli ever since they had alighted from the Archangel. She had been busy, busy, busy, though Athrun understood that anyone would be busy if they had a country to run; and the country in question had almost been ruined by an idiot named Yuna Roma Serian. Knowing did not make him feel any better, if anything, he felt worst.

_It came as a shock as to how much he had lost..._

Then, when he was in Orb and by Cagalli's side, he thought he had nothing. Sure, he had a fulfilling job, a good girlfriend and great friends; but he knew he was lost, he did not know what tomorrow will bring, and to a certain extent, he did not care. It was after his adventure into wonderland that he returned to Orb, realizing for the first time how much he had taken for granted. Now, he had a job to be done, great friends to do it with and a direction that was precious beyond measure. But it came as a shock to realize that she will not be taking the journey with him when he sets off once more…

He lay down on the bed, curled up beneath the blankets and cursed himself inwardly at this point.

_How many times had he simply stood outside her door and could not muster the courage to knock..._

She was simply, stubbornly and intentionally ignoring him, she had to as the head of state. And he could not protest, he had no right to do so.

Yet, he kept on hoping. The pendant that hung around his neck caused him to hope still. _He wanted to believe that he still held a place in her heart that caused her to give him the pendant a second time…_

_He wanted to believe he still mattered to her…_

Athrun bit his lip, his heart was heavy.

_How he longed for her. For the goddess who was once his but now became an untouchable, ethereal being... _

He knew, he loved her still. He tried giving up, he tried to make himself not think of her, he tried to forget her.

_But to stop loving her, it was the one thing he could not do._

Athrun sighed, and closed his eyes, burrowing himself beneath the covers. He allowed sleep to take him…

Ooo

She placed one hand on the door latch, knowing it was open. The management of the dormitories had unlocked it for her.

She hesitated in the dark corridors, half hoping that he will be awake and waiting for her, half wishing that she did not need to confront him. It was late, and she was tired from the grueling week.

_To some extent, she wanted to see him. She wanted to make sure that every moment she could, she will be with him. She want to make him swear he will return safely, but that was the one thing Athrun never promised her, and maybe it was because of that, he had never lied…_

She sighed shakily, then opened the door.

Nothing was stirring in the room, and a sliver of moonlight poured over a form on the bed. The figure beneath the blankets was a young male judging from his height and build. She closed the door quietly behind her, afraid to wake him.

She approached cautiously, it felt as if she was sneaking up on him, but at the same time she was drawn to the fact that she catching him when he was least wary. Resultantly, it felt so wrong and so right at the same time…

"Athrun?" She whispered softly when she was beside his still form. He did not stir, his breathing was deep and regular.

She sat down near him, and her eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, and she was able to observe him in his unencumbered sleep. Athrun laid curled up, warm beneath woolen blankets, and all that was exposed of his profile was his eyes and a few fingers.

Gently, she peeled back to covers a little so that she could see his face. For some reason, he took her breath away; even in his sleep. And curiously, her heart started beating a little faster.

His eyes were closed, and his dark lashes were long and shiny, his lips were smooth and pink. His breaths were slow and even and child-like. But the expression on his face revealed a trace of anguish, as if dark thoughts were plaguing him right before he fell asleep, that or he was having a nightmare.

She smiled sadly for no rhyme or reason, it was as if just seeing him safe and soundly asleep felt like enough...

_He had almost left her, in more ways than one._

_When he boarded the shuttle for space, it never occurred to her that he was going to leave her for good; till they faced each other on the battlefield once more…When he laid wounded and unconscious on the Archangel, she could hardly sleep, it felt as if the moment she closed her eyes, he would leave her…_

She bit her lip, grief settled heavily in her chest, though the small, sad smile did not leave her face. She thought he looked different…He was still the handsome young man whom others have commented -looks more like a consort than a bodyguard, but now, he looked a little older. There was less baby fat on his cheeks and his jawline was a tad more defined, he looked a little more careworn as well. But there was more to it as well, she gasped as the thought struck her…

_Somehow, before she realized it, Athrun had become a man… _

There is a difference between plainly being male and being a man. And the one lying before her emanate a different sort of charm. It was now something more matured, like the seduction of red wine which has fermented over many years. She did not mind just gazing at him all day if he would let her…

She had chosen to come, she had to force herself to; because it may be her last chance. _Tomorrow, she will be sending the man she loves into possibly one of the fiercest battles that mankind will ever witness, not as Cagalli, but as Lady Athha. So, basically, she will not be there. _

_She knew he would have wanted to confront the Zaft forces too, but his decision did not make her less guilty, nor stop her from worrying. She was still afraid that this time might be the last time she will ever see him…_

It all felt so surreal, there was a war going on. But all she saw, all she had at this moment, all that occupied her thoughts; was him in this seemingly peaceful night, where he laid in his peaceful sleep. She lifted a hand, and hesitantly, approached his face.

_She wanted to touch him, just to make sure he was real, and alive and warm._

Her fingers barely brushed his face when there was a sudden blur of movement. The next thing she knew a hand had grabbed her collar roughly and she was being forced down against the covers, then something cold and sharp pressed painfully against the side of her throat.

"Who are you?" He demanded as his hold tightened for a fraction of a second, then gasp softly as he realized who she was. In the darkness, she could see his green eyes widen.

She was so shocked she could not muster a reply, she just stared at him dumbly.

"C…Cagalli?" He exclaimed shakily, lifting the weapon off her throat, in the dim light, Cagalli could see a metallic gleam reflecting off the blade of the letter opener. "I'm…Sorry…I didn't…" He stuttered.

She shook her head with a reassuring smile, and flinched slightly as she felt pain from moving her neck. He frowned as he observed her reaction, and flicked on the bedside lamp. For a moment she could see nothing but bright spots in her vision.

"Don't move." He commanded as his glowing silhouette leaned over her to study that one spot on her neck. Her heartbeat quickened when he leaned towards her, it looked as if he was going to kiss her…His fingers rested gently near the spot where the letter opener had been, and probed tentatively, afraid to hurt her. His touched was gentle, yet urgent. Her heart fluttered blissfully in her chest, but she hoped that he will not notice her pulse, which had by the same token, quickened.

"Athrun…?"

He sighed, "…Abrasion, but no cut." He concluded gravely, he sounded as if someone had died, he was frowning as he gazed at her, and when she gazed back, he looked away quickly.

"Wait here…" He said shortly as he left to rummage through the bathroom cupboard a short distance away. Cagalli did not get up, but remained where she was and studied him intently. She wondered if she knew what he was doing, very few could transit from sleep to wakefulness in the blink of the eye. He was in his blue t-shirt and shorts, and casually showed off the musculature on his long and toned legs. Higher up, the view got even better. He turned, and she quickly looked away when he returned with a bottle of purple solution, cotton wool and a plaster.

Wordlessly, he dabbed the antiseptic solution onto the wound and placed the plaster over it. When he was done, Cagalli just gazed at him. Both were silent for a moment, though it was comfortable; and he finally asked, "…What are you thinking about?"

She coloured, and gave a sheepish smile, she was being caught in the act of ogling.

"You were just…staring at me the whole time…why?"

"I was thinking…" She hesitated, wondering whether to tell the truth. That she missed him and marveled at him being so near by.

He nodded, egging her on, "Thinking…?"

"…_That you have a nice butt_…" She muttered the rest very quickly, hoping he wouldn't hear her embarrassing confession.

His eyes widened, and the rest of his handsome features did not seem to know how to arrange themselves.

"Do you…usually spend time staring at people's rear end?" He questioned, apparently amused.

"No…!" She protested hurriedly, then stuttered truthfully after a moment of consideration. "…Maybe just yours…"

He snorted, and laughed a little, the sound caused her heart to flutter again, it was delighting to hear him laugh- whether it was with her or at her. "And…when are you gonna get up?"

"Hmm, honestly I don't want to. Your bed's so soft and warm, and I'm tired…" She pouted as she answered sincerely, indeed, her eyelids were sliding shut over her eyes. "What time is it?" She questioned him lazily as she rubbed her eyes.

Athrun eyeballed the bedside clock, "Five minutes to eleven."

"Oh…Wake me up at twelve…" She muttered, her decision made on the spot.

"…Hmm." Athrun replied tentatively, "Actually, that's a little strange, your room is just few rooms down the hall…"

She turned to gaze at him, smiling lightly.

"Silly Athrun." She rebuked, he blinked in surprise, and she explained. In a way that expressed something she not longer wanted to hide...

"…Let me stay with you for a while."

He pursed his lip. Then conceded. "Mm."

"Night…" she muttered.

"Goodnight…"

Ooo

After about ten seconds, Athrun finally thought it was safe enough to wipe the tears that had pooled in his eyes.

_The relief was so immense, that nearly nothing was lost, the affection and comfort was still there though circumstances have totally changed. _

He turned to gaze longingly at her prone form, lying less then half a meter beside him.

_She was still there…_

The fact that she decided to sleep right in front of him proved that she trusted him enough to do so. This part always made him glad and a little annoyed at the same time, because sometimes he did not trust himself enough.

_She probably will never understand how much her beauty affected him._

As he gazed at her sleeping form, he began to wonder if he would have to heart to wake her up come 12 midnight. After a few more moments, he realized he could not do it. She was much too fragile, and too tired.

So, he whispered 'sorry' in her ear as he placed his hands behind her shoulders and legs, and slung her arm around his neck, lifting her wholesale off the bed. She stirred, and grimaced a little in his arms, but did not wake. He got out of the room in a slow and steady gait, every bit determined not to disrupt her rest.

_As he carried her-princess style- through the corridor, he bit his lip, wishing that the walk to her room will never end. If he could, he would have wanted to carry her like that with her in a wedding dress; and if she was willing as well, for the rest of their lives..._

She laid soft and inert in his arms, so close by. His heartbeat quickened as her fingers tickled his chest unintentionally. Suddenly she mumbled, bringing all his fantasies to an abrupt end as he held his breath, afraid that she had woken up to find that he had conveniently broken his promise.

She didn't open her eyes as she curled up a little and drew closer to him, annealing to his warmth, he coloured.

_Athrun…_

Athrun stopped, and studied her, but she did not wake. The only sign that she knew what she was doing was to smile slightly in a way that suggested she was having a dream.

_A dream about him._

Then her smile turned into a frown as she cried out.

_Don't die… _

Athrun Zala swallowed, a bitter smile playing by his lips as he laid his princess down in the mattress and tucked her in. He spent the next few moments fingering the fringe on her face and then kissed her on the forehead.

"I…can't promise that, my princess." He whispered sadly, "But…I'll try my best not to die…"

_I'll try my best to come home to you…_

_End~_

Hey folks, this is the fourth and final chapter of 'Into the deep', where Athrun had found his way back home with Cagalli!

It's cheesy, and very long since the last chapter. But I would like to thank all who stuck through the story, and all who gave their comments and criticism. May there be more marvelous (and clean) fics about this beautiful couple.

AsuCaga all the way!

Yours

Ming


End file.
